


Whiskey + Vanilla

by manaketefirestone



Series: Demonic Debauchery [2]
Category: Shall We Date?: Obey Me!
Genre: Exhibitionism, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Heavy Petting, Light BDSM, Mouth gag, One Shot, Oral Sex, Other, Porn with Feelings, Rough Kissing, Sexual Tension, Strength Kink, Vanilla
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-11
Updated: 2020-09-11
Packaged: 2021-03-06 19:34:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,418
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26404294
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/manaketefirestone/pseuds/manaketefirestone
Summary: You're a student at RAD and Satan is your study partner. You've had feelings for him for awhile now, but he always turns down anyone who confesses to him. These feelings finally come to a boiling point on one fateful afternoon in the library.
Relationships: Satan (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!)/Reader
Series: Demonic Debauchery [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1857163
Comments: 4
Kudos: 169





	Whiskey + Vanilla

It’s been a long and boring day of classes at RAD, but it’s almost over. You drum your fingers against your desk as you watch the clock slowly tick-tick-tock. As your professor's voice is drowned out by the final bell, you’ve already begun to pack up your things. After all, you have somewhere to be.

Your classmate and good friend Leviathan meets you at the door. You smile and greet him, by his enthusiastic expression it appears there’s something on his mind.

“Hey, are you free? I thought we could watch some episodes of Devil Man Crybaby after school today. I’ve been meaning to watch it and I know you have too.” He smiles as he excitedly begins to ramble about the director of the anime’s other works. “I mean, it’s not TSL, but he’s still a really talented guy so I was really looking forward to- HEY! Are you even listening to me?”

You apologize and admit that you were daydreaming. You tell him you’d love to watch it sometime, but you can’t do it today. Tuesdays and Thursdays are your study days, and your partner is already waiting for you in the library.

“Study partner? Oh, right. You mean my brother.” He says, looking a bit deflated. “You can’t skip even one afternoon? Is he really that much more interesting than me?” He pouts childishly. You reassure him that no, he’s plenty interesting and fun to spend time with. 

He straightens out his slumped stance and smiles sheepishly. “You really mean that, don’t you? Thanks, it means a lot. Well, I guess I can always ask you tomorrow. It’s a promise, okay?”

You smile and hold out your pinky. It’s a promise. He walks with you down the hallway chatting idly about school and anime until you’ve reached the doors of the library, at which point he walks on without you waving as you part ways. 

* * *

Standing outside the RAD library, you shake off your nerves and brace yourself for another two hours of relentless teasing, bashful glances at the floor, and very little studying. You push open the door and immediately your eyes land on the shock of blonde hair with his nose in a book, as per usual. 

He’s been your study partner for a few months now, but you still struggle to speak when accosted by his smoldering stare. The intelligent gleam in his sea green eyes that seem to look right past you; that charming smirk he assaults your heart with whenever you pause on a tricky question. It was like walking on hot stones, and as much as you wanted to resist, your body responded to all of it.

Frankly it was becoming overwhelming, and you weren’t sure how much longer you’d be able to do this. Is it really “studying” if you’re paying more attention to the person sitting across from you then your textbook?

When you first met Satan he was sitting at the same table he is today. You were struggling with your textbook, holding your face in your hands in frustration. He happened to glance in your direction and decided to come over and ask why you were sulking. 

You told him you were struggling in some of your courses and that the textbook was completely unhelpful. He sat down with you and went over a few pages together, within a few minutes the two of you hit it off and decided to become study buddies. 

At least, that was the intention, but your feelings for him have evolved far past “study buddies”. You find your mind wandering every time he glances your direction, how soft would his lips feel pressed against yours?

You bury your sinful thoughts and return his polite wave, making your way over to the table. He pulls out your chair for you, consistent with his chivalry. 

“It’s nice to see you again, as always.” He says smiling in your direction. He flips nonchalantly through one of his many novels before returning it to the stack on the table. His fingers are delicate and precise, they don’t miss a single page. 

You can’t help but stare, it’s hard to explain but he has this aura of sorts about him that oozes class and charm. You suppose that’s why he had someone confessing to him at least once a week- not that Satan paid them any mind.

You’ve heard numerous rumors about him, “the unattainable prince” of RAD. He is never rude or cross with people when he turns them down, always apologizing and adding that he’s “not looking for a partner right now.” Still, beneath those pretty words there was an icy cool that broke hearts. 

You return his sentiments, your face a bit red. You look away and fish your assignments out of your bag. This week you’ve been tasked with reading a classical novel, which while challenging would be manageable, except there’s one problem. It’s written entirely in Demonic.

You know quite a bit of Demonic by this point, after all you’ve been attending RAD and living in the Devildom for almost a year now. Still, translating things to your native language and answering response questions on top of an already challenging text feels impossible.

You sigh and drop your head into the open book, already dreading what’s to come. Satan curiously pulls the book out from underneath you, being careful not to let your face suddenly smack the table. He opens it up and examines it.

“Ah, I see the problem. It’s in Demonic, I assume that’s why you look like the life has been drained out of you? Well, not to worry, I’m fluent, obviously. We’ll get through this together, especially since I’ve already read this one.” He smiles teasingly as he clasps the book closed, bonking the spine against the top of your head.

You rub your head with a pout, it didn’t actually hurt but you know he thinks it’s funny when you act like a baby. You’re rewarded for your charade with the sound of his laughter, a soft and comforting melody that fills the room with light. The crinkles at the corners of his eyes and the dimples on his cheeks have never looked so beautiful. You want to kiss them a thousand times.

“Alright, let’s get to it shall we? I can’t let my favorite study buddy slack off.” He slides his chair so that it’s closer to yours, you feel your breath catch as his arm brushes briefly against your leg.

He opens the book and places a hand on the table, tapping it twice to signal you to start reading, turning his head to you and overwhelming your mind with his scent. You’ve never been this close to him before, typically he stayed on the other side of the table. 

His voice is warm and gentle as he guides you, but with a twinge of intensity that lurks just beneath the surface. It’s a perfect match for the scents that entangle themselves around your body, whiskey and vanilla.

You want to know what’s really going on behind those emerald eyes. You quickly lose track of time, until he pulls you out of your stupor with a sudden question.

“Can you read this word? It’s pronounced aw-sen-tay-shus.” Satan explains, dragging his finger along the word for emphasis. “It’s a word I frequently use to describe one of my brothers,” He sighs, crossing his arms and shaking his head. “not that Mammon has the vocabulary to object, if I’m being honest.”

You laugh and ask if Mammon is really as bad as he makes him sound, pointing out how he talks about his brothers a lot for someone who claims to be indifferent to if not dislike most of them. He raises an eyebrow.

“You’re pretty observant for someone who's getting a C+ in Demonic Literary Analysis and Composition 101.” He says teasingly, shooting another one of his heart stopping smirks your way. 

You roll your eyes and shove your face back in the book so he can’t see your flustered expression. He reaches across and gently pushes the book back down, studying you. You can feel your heart trying to leap out of your chest at the sight of his fingers only inches from your own as you grip the book tighter.

“Are you trying to hide from me?” He asks, his voice suddenly more serious. You feel your body tremble, the heat rising between your thighs, but you lower your book obediently with a small yelp. 

He watches you squirm for a minute or so with a dangerous look on his face. Then as if he realized something, he blinks a few times and relaxes to his quiet demeanor.

“Sorry, I don’t know what came over me, let's work on this next prompt together.” His smile cuts the tension like a knife, and you feel at ease once again.

However, now you’ve had a small taste of what he’s capable of, and you want more. You take turns reading the passages aloud and pausing to complete the discussion questions, all the while searching for your opportunity to flip his switch. 

It’s your pencil tip breaking that gives you an idea. You excuse yourself and stand up, heading in the direction of the pencil sharpener, when you pause and “accidentally” drop your trusty #2 at his feet. He moves like he’s going to grab it for you and you quickly tell him you’ll get it yourself. 

You bend over with your ass on full display for him, palming around with an accidental leg brush or two for your pencil, giving your ass a good wiggle. You swear you hear him make an exasperated gasp, but it’s hard to tell from the floor. 

When you stand back up, the expression on his face tells you all you need to know. The dark, intense glare from before is locked onto you with the faintest hint of a blush. Before you get the chance to sit back down, his hand is gripping your wrist. 

“I think I have a sharpener in my bag, you don’t have to go wandering off.” His wanton glance pierces through any possible resistance as he gently pats the seat, and you lower yourself back down into the chair.

As you adjust back into the chair you feel his eyes devouring every inch of you and it sends delighted shivers down your spine to know you had an effect on him. Maybe he isn’t always so calm and collected after all. 

“Well, let’s continue shall we? Unless you had other plans?” He says, palming through his bag and pulling out a small black pencil sharpener. He places it in your hand and let’s his fingers linger over yours for a few moments while he awaits your answer.

You stumble over your words, but you manage to tell him that this is the only place you want to be right now. His gaze softens for a moment and he leans closer, your lips tantalizingly close to his own. He brushes a strand of your hair out of your face. After observing you for a moment, he asks you a question you never expected to hear.

“Would it be alright if I kissed you?” His face is noticeably flushed, more so then you’ve seen.

You feel a bit taken aback, but you nod silently and he swiftly closes the distance between you. His lips are indulgent as they press against yours, and although it’s brief you feel like your head is swimming in the clouds as he pulls away.

The pencil sharpener, which until this point had been tightly clenched in your fist, falls to the ground as your body relaxes. You both stop and stare at it for a few seconds, then laugh.

“Well, that was rather pointless wasn’t it. I’m sure I could’ve come up with a more interesting ruse to get you where I wanted you.” You tell him you didn’t think it was _that_ terrible. He chuckles.

“I’ll take that as a compliment I suppose.” His eyes continue to search your body, your face flushing profusely in response. He closes his eyes for a moment and takes a deep breath.

“I apologize, I think I should leave. I don’t want to get carried away and push your boundaries, especially not when I’ve finally gotten to kiss you. That’s more than enough for right now. I will see you next week, as always.” He smiles at you and starts to gather his things.

You feel like you're tied between two ropes, your common sense pulling you one direction and your heart pulling you another. You can’t take this sexual tension anymore, it’s tearing you in two.

This time it’s your turn to make a move. You place a hand on his arm and tell him he doesn’t need to restrain himself, you’ll let him know if he oversteps. His eyes widen in surprise, then close as his lips curl into a smug grin.

“Concupiscent. Do you know what that word means?” His gaze is heavy and you feel the blood rushing to your cheeks as you admit you don’t know that word. 

“It’s a fun word... cun-q-p-scent...” His voice bounces playfully as he pronounces it, waving his pencil like he’s conducting an orchestra as he continues. “... to be filled with sexual desire.” His face turns to you with a different sort of playfulness than you’ve grown used to. It’s more... concupiscent.

You swallow nervously and check the open page, but you can’t find the word anywhere. You turn to ask him where he read it and suddenly his hand is gripping your thigh. You cry out in surprise but your voice is stifled by his other hand as it covers your mouth. His lips move inches from your ear.

“You need to keep quiet, this is a library.” He whispers, giving your ear a quick nibble. You can feel his coy smile as he buries his face in your neck, leaving a trail of kisses to your collarbone. 

His left hand remains firmly planted on your thigh, ghosting your soft skin and inching closer to the sinful place where your heartbeat currently resides. 

You tremble and let out a soft moan as he slips two fingers past the hemline of your bottoms and massages your heated flesh with tender precision. You feel yourself leaking from his touch and turn your face away in embarrassment, his hand sliding away from your mouth in the process. 

He counters by tilting your chin with his now free hand and dipping his lips to meet your own in a gentle kiss. You kiss him back, and soon the ebb and flow becomes feverish and wanting. He continues to assault your senses with his touch, leaving you moaning and gasping into his mouth. 

He pulls away, leaving a trail of saliva between you, his cheeks red and his eyes ravenous for more. You’re about to lean back in to appease his desires when you hear the sound of people idly chatting. In your haze of lust neither of you had realized how much time had passed and now there were significantly more students in the library. 

“Let’s continue this somewhere more private.” He says, helping you to your feet on your shaking legs and bringing you to the back-most corner of the library.

There is very little light and most of the bookshelves have a small layer of dust. As you wonder to yourself why this area doesn’t get as much use, Satan hoists you up and pins you against a bookshelf.

Although he’s suspending a fully grown person with one arm it doesn’t seem to affect him, as if you weighed nothing at all. Your legs dangle uselessly as he begins to pull your bottoms down.

“This is what you wanted, is it not? You put on quite the show of grabbing your pencil, what a tease. You couldn’t have thought I wouldn’t notice. Looks like you’ll need a few lessons in the art of subtlety.” His sultry voice is a match and your body is a candle wick easily alight.

You nod desperately, clinging to his shoulders while drool leaks from the corners of your bitten red lips. Your bottoms and underwear are now hanging from your left ankle, as Satan reaches a hand under your shirt and massages your chest, flicking his finger over your hard nipples.

You groan and squirm against him, your bare ass and leaking sin pressing against his abdomen. He readjusts his grip and moves your legs higher until his face is between your thighs. He’s terrifyingly strong, there’s no escape from his grasp.

“So wet for me... you’re leaking all over.” He whispers, biting your thigh gently while you brace against the bookcase. Your thoughts are clouded in a mist of delirious lust, but you definitely feel it when he begins licking your most sensitive spots experimentally. 

His expert tongue swirls up and down your sex, your labored breathing encouraging him onward. You can feel yourself giving in to the pleasure, about to reveal to the whole library what he’s doing to you with your voice, when he grabs a small book off the shelf and shoves it between your teeth. 

“Bite down.” He commands, continuing to lick and suck as your wetness drips down his chin. You oblige, stifling your moans with the leather backing as saliva spills from your lips to your neck.

With one eye squinted shut in ecstasy you reach down and pull on his hair, receiving a low grumble as a reward. He looks up at you from between your legs, his face is surprisingly flushed. 

You manage to mumble that he looks incredibly sexy like that, and in response he shoves two wet fingers in your starving hole. You bite the book harder, leaving teeth marks in the binding.

His fingers bend and press against your insides, searching for the perfect angle. Drool is now soaking the spine of the novel as you groan clenching your jaw around it.

“You want something bigger?” He coos into your thigh, watching the way you shudder at every push of his fingers with delight. You nod vigorously and he gives you a devilish smirk, leaving a final kiss on your thigh before adjusting your position so that your legs are around his waist again, faces only inches apart. 

He reaches one hand down and undoes his zipper, pulling out his fat pulsing cock and stroking it lightly. He presses it between your thighs and begins rubbing his length against you. He then removes the book from your mouth and replaces it with his lips. 

You squeal and moan into his mouth, which he swallows all too willingly as his tongue explores the back of your throat. You realize you can taste yourself on his tongue and that realization only increases your heartbeat. 

Just when you think you can’t take anymore, he slowly inserts himself inside you, groaning into your lips as your walls clench tightly around him. Your eyes roll to the back of your head as you feel all eight inches of him push inside you.

His strokes are strong and agonizingly slow, pulling you all the way off and then shoving himself deep inside at a tedious pace. It’s like he’s trying to hold himself back in fear of breaking you.

You murmur something about not being made of glass, and he gives a skeptical grunt, pulling away to stare at your thoroughly fucked out expression. 

“If I let myself do whatever I want, there’s a chance you wouldn’t be walking out of here alive.” You see a playful gleam in his eyes, but something tells you he’s not entirely joking. “If you want me to speed up, you just have to ask nicely.”

He gives another painfully slow stroke, his abdomen smacking against your stomach deliciously. Your legs shake around him as you gasp and beg him to fuck you, oh god please won’t he fuck you?

“As you wish.” He replies, drinking in your words with wild eyes. He keeps his promise and increases his pace by a steady margin, his grip tightening as he fucks up into you.

Your rational thoughts drown in a sea of pleasure, calling out his name over and over again, muffled only by his mouth pressed against yours.

You catch glimpses of him in between the heart stopping strokes, and it looks like he’s thoroughly feeling it too. His face is beet red, his eyes tightly closed as he gasps and grunts between gritted teeth.

You sense a powerful aura omitting from him, like his true form could unveil at any moment. It’s taking everything he has to hold himself together.

Holy shit, you think to yourself, that is so fucking hot. At that exact moment, your body twitches and clamps down on his thick cock as you cum, your fluids soaking his abdomen.

In your throes of ecstasy you accidentally let three little words escape your lips, not fully able to register you said them until they already escaped. 

That seems to be his breaking point, and his horns and tail explode from within him, knocking several books off the shelf in front of you with a loud crash as he releases inside you. 

“I love you too.”

You stay there for a moment, joined together as he pumps more cum inside of you. Then he lowers you to the ground breathlessly, you immediately collapse to the floor with your back to the bookcase. 

As he leans on the shelf while you both catch your breath, his demonic features disappear as quickly as they came, your heads whip towards the sound of oncoming footsteps. Probably a curious student or two who heard the crash, if not a staff member. 

He quickly scoops you up in his arms, along with your bottoms and underwear which had been kicked haphazardly aside, and breaks for the emergency exit.

He tears down the empty hallway with you still pudding in his arms, until he finally reaches an unlocked, empty classroom and locks the door behind him. 

* * *

After placing you gently on the teacher’s chair, you finally both get a moment to recover properly. You fumble with your bottoms but manage to slip it back on, blushing profusely at the cum leaking from your trembling sex into your underwear. 

“That’s... hah... that’s exactly why I was trying to contain myself. You’re an awful listener.”

You apologize, and then bring your face to your knees in humiliation as you recall what you admitted to him. Yeah, it sounded like he said it back, but you must have misheard him. Why would someone as perfect as Satan see you as anything more than his plaything?

He walks over and sits on the teacher’s desk, and gently places his hand over yours. You look up at him with wide eyes, his hand is warm and meshes perfectly against your own. 

“I know that I- well that we- both said some things back there, in the heat of the moment...”

Your heart sinks, fearing that you already know what he’s going to say next.

“... and I have to admit that I’ve had these feelings stirring inside my chest since we first became acquainted.” 

He looks away, a soft blush forming on his cheeks. He shakes his head and continues with purpose.

“I didn’t know what to call these feelings, but when you blurted that out so shamelessly something clicked in place for me.” He smirks at you, those cat-like eyes sparkling with mischief.

You smack him playfully on the arm, but continue to listen intently, your embarrassment overrun by your bewilderment at his words.

You admit to him you never thought you’d have a chance, considering his reputation as the “unattainable prince.”

“Is that what they call me? How annoying.” He says, rolling his eyes. “I suppose you deserve an explanation at the very least, considering our current situation. Without going into too much detail, I have… anger issues. These issues prevent me from seeking out relationships because- well because I’m afraid of myself.” His voice wavers a bit as he lets the words flow out. You squeeze his hand comfortingly.

“I do of course have carnal desires, perhaps not on the same level as Asmodeus or Lucifer but they are there, as I obviously just demonstrated. However I don’t enjoy the idea of potentially hurting a partner in the bedroom or otherwise, so I've resigned to avoiding that side of myself altogether. The side of me that wants something more than just loveless hookups and offerings.” His eyes lock with yours, the gentle shine over his iris makes it very clear to you how difficult it is for him to talk about his feelings. You feel touched that he trusts you so deeply.

“Your presence calms me, it’s like a breath of fresh air in my usually tedious life. I don’t exactly have the most healthy family dynamic, and even at RAD I have a reputation to maintain, but with you I feel like I can finally relax.” You smile and tell him you feel the same way. You tell him that his worries about his anger are understandable, but you assure him that you feel safe around him and that you would tell him if that ever changed. He pushes off the desk and kisses you on the forehead. He lets his lips rest there for a few moments.

“That’s exactly why you were the first person I couldn’t simply ignore. You’re so honest about how you feel, not to mention beautiful.” He whispers, his palm softly stroking your cheek. He tilts your head into a gentle kiss. “I guess what I’m trying to say is, I don’t know what this-“ He says, gesturing to both of you, “-is, but I’m willing to try. If you’ll be patient with me.”

You can feel happy tears forming at the corners of your eyes and throw yourself at him, smiling into his chest. Initially he looks taken aback, but then a soft smile creeps from the corners of his lips and he holds you tightly. 

“I think our next study session should be at my place, hmm?” You both laugh, he walks you to the bus stop and plants another kiss on your forehead as you board. You go home that day with some new vocabulary words, an aching body, and a boyfriend.

**Author's Note:**

> If you like this fanfic and you want to stay updated, please consider following/checking out my [tumblr](https://manaketefirestone.tumblr.com/). I post updates about my writing, artwork, and potential future projects. Please feel free to make comments, suggestions, or share your thoughts!
> 
> Thank you for reading!  
> -Manakete 🐉🔥


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